


True Love's Kiss

by blueberrypii



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon - Freeform, First merthur fanfic, Fluff, GAY GAY GAY, It is a slow development but i promise i will get there, Light Angst, M/M, Merlin - Freeform, Wish me luck, merlin is dying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrypii/pseuds/blueberrypii
Summary: One day, Merlin goes missing and, naturally, Arthur sets out to find him. What he doesn't realise is that what happens next will change his life - forever.(I'm never going to finish this I'm so so sorry I have no motivation whatsoever, I get an urge to write once a year and it's all been used up for 2017)





	1. Searching

Merlin was an idiot. Everyone knew that. He was a stupid, forgetful, clumsy idiot.

And he was in trouble.

"Merlin? Merlin, where are you?"

A man garbed in a red cloak and silver chain mail was riding through the forest on his chestnut coloured steed, racing between the tree trunks, leaping over fallen trees and shrubs. His horse was not properly saddled, strings loose and hanging off the sides, as if the rider had been in too much of a hurry to pay any attention to them.

The man himself too appeared dishevelled, his blonde hair not even brushed through, tangled by the harsh winter gale that blew mercilessly from the north. He was young, and by most people's standards very handsome; his cloak bore the insignia of a dragon and it billowed behind him as he sped through the oaks and birches. His brow was wrinkled with worry and his cloudless blue eyes darted from side to side constantly, searching desperately for a sign, a hint, a clue. Anything. Anything that would tell him where his manservant was.

"Merlin!" The shout reverberated between the trees and echoed softly in the distance, almost mocking the young man. He stopped his horse abruptly and listened for a reply, eyes wide open, holding his breath - waiting.

He was met with nothing but silence.

Biting down on his lip in frustration, he rode onward, towards the west, distancing himself more and more from Camelot the further he rode. His father could lecture him about it all he wanted when he returned, it was all the same to Arthur. This was not the first time he had disobeyed the King's orders, and by no means would it be the last, especially not when Merlin's safety was in question.

"Merlin? Are you there?" He cried out again, and felt the hoarseness of his throat, how thirsty he was-- but no, he couldn't stop now, not when he was out there somewhere, not when every second counted. 

He spared a glance at the sky and quickly ascertained that it was noon, or perhaps a little past it. Arthur had been out since dawn, which is when he first received news of Merlin's absence: he was meant to have gone to the woods to collect wild crocuses for Gaius, the court physician, but no one had seen him since his departure the day before. If the young prince had looked around properly, he may have realised he was in the forest near to the Castle of Gdenir, which had been abandoned many centuries ago after the supposed attack of a magical beast -- but Arthur did not look as he did not care for his surroundings, save if they revealed to him his servant's whereabouts.

He rode on, exhausted and desperate, yet determined in his quest, until finally, finally, he caught a glimpse of a familiar red scarf amongst the dry leaves on the forest floor and halted his horse with one sharp tug of the reins. With newfound energy, he launched himself off his steed, landing clumsily on the ground, and rushed towards where he had seen it only moments before. 

As he drew nearer, the fallen figure came into focus: his simple jacket was torn in several places, it and the rest of his clothes smeared in mud. The man's raven black hair was tangled with twigs and dry leaves, and if you ignored the death white hue of his skin, you might have thought he was sleeping.

_Merlin!_

Arthur sank to his knees before his servant and quickly held his fingers to Merlin's neck. He sighed with relief as he felt his pulse under his cold skin - weak - but throbbing, throbbing and living. His joy was short-lived however, as he noticed, with pure horror, the giant rip and crimson stain on Merlin's ordinarily blue shirt. The prince hesitated momentarily before gently lifting up the fabric to expose what surely must have been a claw slash, deep and bloody. 

Knowing the situation was dire, he whipped off his cloak and chain mail, tearing off a piece of his undershirt and wrapping it around Merlin's wound, hoping to contain the blood flow, even just a little. He then put the chain mail back on, but wrapped the thick cloak around the young man's body in an attempt to keep him warm, ignoring the cold gusts of the wind that already chilled him to the bone.

The prince took a deep breath before sliding his hands under his manservant's limp body: one hand under his knees, the other supporting his back, and with a grunt Arthur slowly lifted himself and Merlin, proceeding to carry him over to his horse, which had thankfully decided to wait for its master's return instead of wandering off somewhere.

As he carried Merlin, he noted just how fragile the young man seemed in his muscular arms, almost like a girl, and how long his dark eyelashes were, and how-- 

Arthur shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He wasn't sure where that trail of thought had been going, but he put it down to tiredness and carried on until he reached his steed. Then he carefully placed the unconscious man on the horse and removed his water-skin from one of the pouches attached to the saddle, which he had - wisely - filled before his departure from Camelot. The liquid was cool and refreshing, and Arthur gulped it down gladly before climbing onto the horse himself. 

Once his feet were secured in the stirrups, he re-adjusted Merlin's position on the horse so he was leaning against Arthur and, with one arm around his servant and one hand holding the reins, the two set off home, to Camelot.

"It won't be long Merlin, I promise. Just... Just hold out alright? For me."


	2. Tending

"Gaius! Gaius it's Merlin, I've found him!"

The prince burst through the door, startling the elderly man and causing him to drop a vial of (smoking) amber potion on the floor; the fragile glass shattered into a hundred pieces but the physician did not seem to care, he simply rushed towards Arthur - who in his arms carried the young Merlin. A small tear welled up in his eye as he came closer and saw the blood seeping through his clothes.

"Come, sire, lay him on this bed," Gaius said, gesturing to the mattress across the room, bowing his head slightly in respect, and Arthur complied, gently laying Merlin down and allowing Gaius to examine him. "Wherever did you find him?"

"Far from here, near the Western Hills of Aglion," - exasperated, he sat down on a wooden stool and instantly regretted his choice as this one in particular was missing a leg. "Do you know what creature might have attacked him?"

Gaius sighed and took a long look at the gash across Merlin's chest. "There are many dangerous beasts in that part of the kingdom, any one of them could have taken a chunk out of Merlin here. Not to worry, I'll dress his wound and prepare a tonic to help him recover. Hopefully he'll be coming round soon."

The door swung open for the second time that day, nearly hitting Arthur square in the face, who was searching for something to drink among Gaius' many bottles and potions. It was Gwen.

"Merlin! Is he alright? I saw Arthur carrying him in and I-- Oh, Arthur, you were here!" The prince managed a tired smile and returned to his searching. 

"Yes, he's back, although not in the best shape I'm afraid," The physician turned towards the servant girl, and beckoned her towards him. "Guinevere, be as kind to fetch me a blanket or two, will you? The poor boy's half frozen."

"Of course," she smiled and crossed the room in search of something that wasn't too itchy or infested with fleas, which was in truth, a difficult task.

"So," Arthur began, "you'll be able to treat him, yes?"

"I should see no reason why not. I've treated men with worse battle wounds in the past."

"Excellent. Then I shall be leaving to go to my chambers. It's been a long day and I've no doubt my father will be wanting to speak to me on account of my sudden departure," He stood up and turned to leave, his eyes lingering on Merlin for a split second longer than what would be considered normal.

"Of course sire. Rest assured that he is safe now. Oh and, my lord--"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for finding him. There are not many nobles who care so deeply about their servants." 

Arthur smiled faintly at this and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.  

 

"Gaius? I've got some blankets for Merlin." Guinevere had re-appeared and handed the bundle to the elderly man.

"Thank you Gwen," he carefully laid them over Merlin's bottom half, leaving his torso naked and exposed - after all, he still had the dressing to apply. The dark haired man groaned in his feverish sleep, cold sweat making his skin glisten. "Could you fetch me the pail of water and cloth from over there please?"

She did so, and Gaius gently placed the damp cloth on his patient's forehead, Gwen looking over his shoulder, concerned.

"He will be alright won't he? I mean," she faltered, "it looks like a nasty wound."

"That's because it is. Truth be told, I have no idea what could have caused it. Whatever it was, it must have been a fearsome creature."

"Did Arthur not find the beast?"

"No, it seems as though it was gone before he arrived, which is strange in itself. But that's not what's worrying me," the physician said, rummaging through his drawers in search of bandages.

"Well, what is?" 

"Why on earth did Merlin stray so far from Camelot? Crocuses aren't exactly difficult to find at this time of year, and that's what I sent him to gather. Arthur said he found him near the Western Hills of Aglion--"

"That doesn't make sense. It would at least a day to get there by foot!" Merlin groaned in his sleep again and Gwen wiped his brow with the cloth once more.

"This is a mystery indeed. Now, prop him up for me will you, while I wrap his wound up."


	3. Daydreaming

Arthur made his way up to the throne room, stomach rumbling (he had not eaten that day, except for a small apple in the morning), already dreading the near certain lecture he would have to endure and the promises he would have to make to his father - promises he would no doubt end up breaking some time or another. 

The guards outside appeared relieved to see him, and moved aside so that their prince could enter. Arthur steeled his nerves and walked in.

Uther had been in some kind of meeting with the court genealogist and librarian, Geoffrey, but as soon as he saw Arthur he dismissed the old man, who half walked, half scurried away. It appeared that the King was not in a good mood. 

"Arthur."

"Father." Arthur took a deep breath before continuing. "As you can see, I have returned."

"Indeed. And may I ask, where you have been?" His tone was firm and full of anger. The prince would have to step carefully if he wished to avoid getting burnt.

"Well you see father, my servant, Merlin had gone missing after going to the forest and I--" 

"You're telling me that you left Camelot, at dawn, with no warning whatsoever, cancelling a hunting trip and a training session to look for a mere servant?" A sudden chill filled the room and Arthur's hair stood on its end. 

"Yes, I did. But--"

"But?"

"I honestly do not see what the problem is. After all, I told Sir Leon where I was going and I wasn't even gone for a whole day so--" 

"AND YOU THINK THAT'S ACCEPTABLE?" Uther Pendragon roared and the entire hall seemed to shake, echoing the shout back at Arthur. Needless to say, the King of Camelot was not finished. 

"As much as you care about your servant, he's just a servant! You're the crown prince! I can't allow you to be going on stupid trips running after some idiot--" 

Many thoughts were going through Arthur's mind at that point: arguments, retorts, remarks that would be sure to stoke the flame of his father's rage. He kept silent. 

"He can't possibly be so idiotic to get lost so easily! I don't know why you even bother with such things--"

He wanted to explain to his father. Wanted to tell him how many times Merlin had saved his life. Wanted to tell him how much he cared for his servant, the... feelings he had for him. But he would not understand. 

"And I can hardly explain the effect this could have on our knights, seeing their leader disregard the King so easily-- Arthur? Are you listening?" 

"Yes father, of course I am," he answered politely, keeping his gaze low.

"Do not disobey me again like this." The King's tone was final. 

"Yes father. I shan't."

Arthur made his escape from the throne room, grateful to be away from his father. As much as he loved him, there were certain subjects they didn't exactly see eye to eye on. 

Now, Arthur thought to himself, I'll need to have a bath so I'm not filthy, and a fresh change of clothes would be handy and then-- 

Ah yes. No Merlin. 

He sighed, exasperated. I suppose I'll have to get some other servant to prepare my bath for me - or, he grimaced as he thought to himself, I'll have to do it myself.  That was something he was not prepared to do, under any circumstances. 

Despite appearances, the prince really did care for the people around him. Especially Merlin. Ever since he confronted him in the courtyard, Arthur knew there was something different about him. Well, at first he thought he was a pillock looking for a beating (and he still didn't think he was entirely wrong), but deep down, he knew. It was in his eyes, his piercing blue eyes. They were the colour of the stormy sea and the placid night sky at the same time, which was a fact Arthur had always found intriguing. 

The truth was, he felt - dare he say it - lonely without Merlin by his side, without the knowledge he was somewhere in the castle, bustling around, doing his chores or whatever it is servants do in their spare time. 

Utterly absorbed in his own thoughts, the numerous individuals passing him in the hallways might have remarked that he looked vacant, absent-minded - some might have even chanced to say that he appeared love struck. The man in question, however, was unaware of this, thinking of nothing but of his manservant as he made his way to his chambers - his manservant and his beautiful blue eyes.


	4. Worrying

Three days had passed since Arthur brought Merlin back to Camelot. And the young man's condition had not improved in the slightest.

"His fever's getting worse Gaius." Gwen sat by the young man's bedside, changing the damp cloth for the fifth or fourth time that hour. Thankfully, the Lady Morgana had allowed her to forsake her duties for a day or so to tend to Merlin, for the noblewoman knew how much Gwen cared for him. Not as a lover, of course, but as a friend - a good, loyal and trustworthy friend.

"Believe me Guinevere, I am trying," Gaius mumbled with his face pressed up against the stack of books he was carrying. With an oomph, he set them down on the table, and fetched his magnifying glass.

"Isn't there something else we can do?" Her voice almost trembled; she was scared, and with reason.

Gaius had tried many, many different remedies over the last few days, but none of them had helped Merlin. Rosemary, ground up wild orchids, numerous healing potions and tonics... His future seemed bleak, to say the least.

The door creaked open slowly and there in the doorway stood Arthur, noticeably less well-dressed now that Merlin was confined to a bed, and his usual air of arrogance dissipated as soon as he walked in. He expected to see his manservant awake at the very least, making jokes and chuckling to himself, but he was met with a very different sight.

"How is he?"

"No better sire," Gaius looked up from his book to address the prince."He woke up this morning, very briefly, but only to mumble some incoherent words before returning to his slumber."

"I see..." He looked pained, almost distraught, but the physician would be damned if he told him that. "And do you know what foul creature attacked him?"

"I regret to say my lord, that too is an uncertainty - but we know one thing for certain."

"Well then do go on, I am listening."

Gaius hesitated and took a deep breath before continuing. "It was a magical beast."

A sudden silence filled the room, and a cold draft seemed to materialise out of nowhere, chilling the occupants. Gwen glanced nervously between the two men and Merlin, who was turning in his sleep. Gaius merely looked at the floor, as if he were somehow ashamed of what he just said. 

It was Arthur who spoke first.

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"Well," the physician explained, "for one,  a wild animal would have... Finished young Merlin off, so to speak, after dealing him such a wound. Second of all, no wolf or bear _I've_ ever heard of would be able to deal such damage in one swipe or bite - for it was undoubtedly one blow, and one alone. And finally..." Gaius paused, unsure of himself.

"Yes?" asked Arthur, surprisingly without any hint of impatience or anger in his voice. 

"Well, I think it best you took a look yourself sire." He walked towards Merlin, and Guinevere pulled his blankets down slightly, allowing him to - gingerly - unwrap the young man's bandages to reveal the wound underneath.

The prince's eyes widened in shock and he recoiled at the sight: the slash was festering and oozing green-yellow puss, still bleeding slightly, and the immediate area of skin around it had turned a bruised purple. Combined with the sick stink it gave off, it was enough to make a man retch.

Good thing Arthur always had a strong stomach.

Gaius surveyed his reaction, and resumed his explanation. "This is by no means a normal wound - the only explanation is that the effect was worsened by magic. Of course, I considered the fact that the creature could have been poisonous, but the various tests I conducted on it provided no conclusive--"

"Will he recover?" 

The question leapt out of Arthur's mouth before he could think twice about it, so desperate was he to know Merlin's fate. He couldn't bear the thought of him dying - in a way, it seemed almost absurd. He had taken _poison_ for Arthur for God's sake, and he in turn had saved his life several times; to have it end after being attacked by some unknown beast in the middle of a nameless forest in an insignificant part of the world just seemed... Wrong. 

He looked towards Gaius for reassurance, but the old man could not provide much.

"I am trying my best," was all he said, and returned to his books, skimming the pages, occasionally stopping and reading a small part with his magnifying glass before clicking his teeth and moving on, leaving Arthur looking dejected.

Guinevere took it upon herself to comfort him.

"My lord," she said, rising from beside the bed, "I am sure Merlin will recover - it will just take a little longer than expected, that's all."

"Mm." He looked unconvinced, letting himself gaze on the feverish boy, saying no more.

"Have some faith in him," she started again, determined to cheer him up even the slightest bit. "He's tougher than he looks, and besides, he's been through worse. He'll get through this!"

"I suppose so..." Arthur raised his head to look at Morgana's serving girl: she was pretty, that was a fact, some might say she was beautiful. With chocolate brown eyes and small dimples on her olive brown skin, she smiled warmly at him, sunlight illuminating her face. But Arthur's attention was not on her looks, but on the sickly pale man she was nursing, who whimpered in his sleep and shivered as he fought the fever. 

 

 


	5. Hoping

Gaius closed yet another leather bound book (he could've sworn that one had at least a thousand pages) with an exhausted sigh. It was late, very late indeed, but one look at Merlin and his strained breathing told the physician he'd most likely be awake all night.

He was searching for a clue, anything that would lead him to discover what manner of beast attacked his young charge. After all, he couldn't treat him if he didn't know what his ailment was, as frustrated as he felt.

So he read and he read, refusing to let his eyelids close, and he racked his brains for a solution. He had researched werewolves and manticores and all manner of different creatures, none of which could have possibly been the culprit.

Where was it that Arthur said he found him?  Near the Western Hills of Aglion?  The prince hadn't been much more specific than that - when Gaius asked him if he saw any footprints or the like when searching for Merlin, he had simply replied that he had not paid any particular attention to his surroundings.

That was strange in itself, or at least it was to Gaius, for normally Arthur was quite perceptive in such matters. In terms of people's feelings and the like... Well, he left much to be desired.

The elderly man stood up slowly, stretching as he did so; he went to Merlin and changed the damp cloth on his forehead before sitting him up carefully. He opened his patient's  mouth wide and poured some water into it - the last thing he needed was for Merlin to become dehydrated.

He pulled a blanket loosely over him, then turned and headed towards one of his many shelves, pulling out a collection of maps, and sifted through them until he found the one he wanted: the fallen Kingdom of Duune. It collapsed many centuries ago, after the abandonment of the capital, Gdenir - it was often said that it was attacked by a horde of magical creatures, but the truth was uncertain. There were not many who were willing, or brave enough to go there, and of those who did, not many returned.

Gaius had a bad feeling about this.

He deliberated a while longer, then proceeded to rummage in a pile of dusty books to pull out what had once been a treasured work: the cover was ornately designed, the title written in gold and inside, although they were now soup-stained and yellowed with age, there had once been crisp white pages that would have excited any book lover.

The court physician did not have the time nor the energy to notice these details - he hurriedly opened the book and started leafing through, trying not to rip the fragile pages, muttering seldom heard curses under his breath.  
When he finally found what he had been looking for, his lips were pulled tightly in a frown, and he wore a grim expression on his face.

This, he thought to himself, is going to prove troublesome.

 

At the same time that Gaius was doing his research, the crown prince of Camelot was lying awake in his bed. Eyes wide open, he stared up at the rich red fabric that draped around the sides, and thought of many things. Namely his manservant.

Annoyed at his inability to sleep, he flung the bedsheets off, and went to his window, from which he looked upon the palace courtyard and, further away, parts of the lower town. One day, he would rule over it all, and he honestly felt he could wait a couple of decades more before that happened.

The night sky was dark blue and peaceful, devoid of any clouds that might obscure the pale light of the crescent moon. Arthur found himself gazing at the stars, habitually picking out all the constellations he could see - the constellations Merlin was so very fond of. Whenever they camped outside the city, he would catch him looking at the starry sky with an expression of absolute delight on his slender face. Naturally, he used the opportunity to scold the serving boy for his idleness, although secretly, he shared in his immense wonder, and would be far too happy to watch them with him.

Merlin. He really was like no other. No one seemed to understand that, not really - not Gwen, not Gaius, not Morgana... And most certainly not his father.

A shooting star fell from the heavens and he watched it, completely entranced, until it blinked out of sight.  
He was worried. There was no denying that. If Gaius could find a cure, then there weren't many who would be able to. Perhaps none.

And then Merlin would die.

The very notion seemed unthinkable. Unimaginable. Yet, underneath it all, Arthur knew it was a possibility - one that increased with every second that passed by.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. Gaius would find the cure, he was sure of it - after all, he'd done it so many times before. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. And if there was some obscure ingredient that he had to obtain, so be it. After all, he had obtained the mortaeus flower with the odds stacked agaisnt him, with Nimueh and giant spiders trying to kill him. He could do it again with some other plant or what not.

Little did Arthur know, Gaius had indeed found a cure. But it wasn't one that would be to the prince's liking, so to speak.

 


	6. Trying

Guinevere rose with the sun that morning, as she always did, dressing quickly and eating her rather meagre breakfast ravenously. By the time she left her home - which, as always, seemed far too empty and cold after her father's death - the rest of Camelot was waking. Last night she had offered to watch over Merlin, not wanting Gaius to tire himself out, but he dismissed her, saying that he'd be awake anyway, researching some things. The old man had barely slept since Arthur brought Merlin back, understandably, but she _had_ to find some way of getting him to rest. Otherwise, she feared Merlin wouldn't be the only one confined to a bed. 

She knocked twice on the physician's door, and, upon receiving no reply, slowly opened it: Gaius had fallen asleep on the table at some point in the night, his head buried in a peculiar looking book. Gwen smiled at the sight, a sigh of relief escaping her lips, and entered the chamber, striding purposefully towards Merlin. 

To her disappointment, he appeared no better, so the serving girl lightly set down the basket she had been carrying, and proceeded to change his bandages. As she stripped him of the pus and blood soaked cloth, she resisted the urge to press her hands to her nose - the wound stunk like rotting meat. Even she could tell he didn't have a lot of time left.

Just as she was finishing, Gaius stirred in his sleep and, feeling the sunlight hitting his face, opened his eyes to see the young woman bending over Merlin.

"Ah Guinevere, my dear," he muttered sleepily, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

"Good morning Gaius. Did you get some rest?" 

He grumbled a reply before getting up and stretching his legs, then fetching a jug of water and pouring himself some. "I have good news," he declared when he had drained a goblet.

"Did you find a cure?" she asked, raising herself slowly.

"Well, yes, I... I suppose I did."

"That's... That's wonderful Gaius!" she exclaimed, her beautiful face suddenly lighting up with joy. "So Merlin will be alright, won't he? Oh I knew you'd save him, I knew it!" Gwen ran up to the physician and squeezed him tightly, unintentionally knocking the wind out of him. 

"Yes, well--" 

"Is something wrong?" She paused, unsure what to make of the worried expression on Gaius' face. "Gaius?"

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Guinevere, you regard Merlin as a... Good friend, do you not?"

"O-of course I do," she answered sweetly, albeit with a hint of doubt in her voice. "But, what has that got to do with anything?"

"Would you do anything to save him?" he pressed on, ignoring her question.

"Yes..? I suppose I would..." 

"Good." With that, he moved closer to Gwen and looked her straight in the eye.

"Gaius? What is this about?" She felt confused and scared at once, waiting in anticipation for the physician's reply.

"Guinevere... I want you to kiss Merlin."

 

 

Time seemed to slow down for both of them, Gwen not quite believing what she'd heard, Gaius almost dreading her reply. 

" _Excuse me_ , Gaius? Wh-what relevance does _kissing him_  have to making him better? And for the record, why can't _you_ kiss him instead?" 

"Let me assure you, there is a proper reason behind all this."

"Well go on then," she ordered, clearly flustered by the physician's request. "What is it?"

"It's the cure," he replied simply, preferring to look at his feet rather than at Gwen. "Those bitten by the Morrgul must be kissed by their true love in order to recover. Otherwise, their fever and infection will worsen and... They will die."

"So... You think _I'm_ Merlin's true love?" Gaius could sense the scepticism in her voice, feel the tension in the air as she watched him, arms crossed.

"Not exactly but--"

"But what?"

He sighed, exasperated. "I haven't got a clue who else it could be, who else I could possibly ask! Please, Gwen, you must try."

Gwen thought about what he said, and found herself agreeing. Although Merlin was kind to most people that he encountered, he wasn't close to very many - almost as if he had a secret to hide. To the best of her knowledge , the only people he talked with much was her, Arthur, maybe Lady Morgana, Lancelot (who had left Camelot a few months back anyway) and... 

That was where her list ended.

"Alright," she begun, "I'll do it. For Merlin's sake. Although, there's one thing I want to know in advance." 

"Very well."

"What exactly _is_ a Morrgul?"

"A Morrgul is a mythical creature with the head of a snake and the body of a bear - supposedly conjured many centuries ago by a powerful sorcerer, to kill the royal family of Gdenir," he explained, "Merlin, I'm assuming, was attacked by the bear half. And just as well, for the snake's venom is lethal."

Gwen nodded, and turned to face the sleeping man. As much as she enjoyed Merlin's company and treasured him dearly, she didn't _love_ him. Her feelings on the matter were worsened by the fact that her desire to see him get better conflicted heavily with her current, very different, love interest, and if she were to be completely honest with herself, she wasn't sure whether she wanted him to recover after the kiss, knowing full well what that would mean.

Nevertheless, she obliged, and kissed him gently on his chapped lips. 

Immediately afterwards, Gwen opened her eyes and looked at Merlin, looked at him for a long, long time. There was no immediate improvement: his breaths were still ragged, skin still sweaty, eyelids still firmly closed. 

"Maybe it isn't immediately effective?" commented Gaius from the other end of the room, and Gwen felt herself starting to lose all hope.


	7. Pleading

Six days had passed since Merlin had returned. Three days since Gaius had discovered the cure.

And Merlin was the closest he'd ever been to dying.

The infection from the wound was spreading throughout his body, and whereas before he had woken up for a few minutes at a time every so often, he now only spoke through whimpers and moans of pain, mixed in with occassional grunts and babbled words.

Gaius had tried his best. First Gwen, then some other servants Merlin may or may not have admired at some point; he had even managed to convince Lady Morgana to kiss him (even the physician himself couldn't believe he'd done it, and she in turn made him swear he would never speak of it), without any success. 

Gaius had all but given up on saving his life - he tried not to succumb to despair, remembering the promise he had made to Merlin's mother. After all, he had sworn to protect the young man, even at the cost of his own life, and he would be damned if he did nothing while his charge suffered and died.

Leaving Gwen by Merlin's side, he excused himself, saying he would be back shortly, heading in the direction of the palace dungeons. Along the way, he picked up some fresh herbs and supplies, as much to replenish his stocks as to aid in getting past the prison guards. For, as much as Gaius did not want to admit it, he needed the Great Dragon's help.

 

Below the castle of Camelot, Kilgharrah was stirring. He could sense a disturbance in the magic of the Old Religion, a kind of discomfort in his centuries-old bones. The dragon's instinct proved correct when the physician appeared in his cave, bearing a brightly lit torch and a grim expression on his wrinkled face.

"Gaius," the creature announced, smirking to itself, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Do not flatter yourself Kilgharrah," he answered coldly, "I have no time for playing games with you."

"No? Shame." He curled his tail and shifted in his position on the rock, rattling the giant chains loudly as he did so, deep voice oozing with spite and sarcasm. "You've come about the boy, have you not?"

"Indeed." The physician paused briefly. "I have come to ask - what must I do to cure him? I... I would be willing to do anything to save him, lay down my life, destroy half of Camelot - anything! It means nothing to me and I do not care for it. Tell me dragon, what do I do?"

Gaius was very brave, and his words were true and honest, yet the Great Dragon erupted into a fit of laughter, chuckling away to himself, the mocking sound echoing between cave walls.

 **"Do you find Merlin's plight entertaining?!"** The man shouted angrily at the gigantic beast, waving the torch in the air. "Will you do nothing but laugh as he dies, leaving his destiny unfulfilled?"

Kilgharrah stopped laughing almost immediately and leant closer to the elderly man. "I've just never seen you so desperate to sacrifice yourself before, that's all," he remarked snidely, "In fact, I recall that you weren't so eager to help when your brothers and sisters were being murdered all around you..."

"I have many regrets, _O Great Dragon_ , but perhaps you'd like to leave the dead in the past, where they belong. Now, what can I do to save Merlin?" The physician's tone created no opportunities for further mockery, so the creature felt obliged to answer truthfully.

"There is nothing you can do Gaius. He has bitten by a Morrgul, and there is only one cure for that, one which is already known to you."

The man sighed. "The kiss of his true love. But--"

"But?"

"It has proved impossible! This _true love_ of his could be anyone, anywhere, in a different town, in a far away Kingdom... They might not have even met yet! How on earth are we meant to find this person?"

Kilgharrah only smiled. "You worry too much Gaius. It is not Merlin's destiny to die yet... And as for his true love--" He broke off, judging the physician's reaction with his watchful golden eyes, "they're closer than you think." And with that, he raised himself from a crouching position and, beating his scaly wings, flew off into the darkness of the cavern, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

"Is that all you have to say Kilgharrah?! Is that all?!" His shouts would not reach the dragon's ears, and even if they did, he would no doubt ignore them, so Gaius slowly turned and headed back up to the surface, no more hopeful than when he came down.

All he knew was that Merlin had just a few short hours left, and the Great Dragon had been of no help at all.

 


	8. Thinking

Arthur paced Gaius' chamber, thinking, thinking, thinking what he could possibly do to save his manservant.

The physician had explained the situation to him, had explained the fact that Merlin had to be kissed by his true love in order to recover, or whatever the hell that meant-- He also told him they'd tried some people and failed, but had refused to say who exactly, which wasn't exactly useful to the prince.

He didn't need Gaius to tell him that Merlin wouldn't last much longer than morning. Yet still, he and Gwen tended to him, trying to ease the young man's suffering as his breath grew more and more shallow. Arthur too, had been sick with worry, and it was showing: the black eyebags, the missed sword fighting practises, the sudden lack of appetite... His father would no doubt punish him for missing practise, but that was the least of his concerns.

When he had had enough of pacing, he sat himself down on a stool by Merlin's bedside, Gaius shuffling slightly to make room.

"My lord, would you not prefer to retire to your chamber?" He inquired. "I fear it's going to be a long night--"

"No Gaius, I'm fine here. Besides," he said, "if he's going to die I... I want to see him through. To the end."

The physician nodded in understanding and turned back to the dying young man. Death already lay upon him, scythe in hand, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and out of desperation the old man started to mutter some prayers - to a god he wasn't completely sure he believed in.

Arthur simply sat and watched, in complete silence, as slowly but surely the life drained out of his companion, turning his skin near translucent, until he could stand it no more.

"Out. Now." was all he said.

"Sire?"

"Leave. Please. I... I want some time alone with him." His voice was starting to break. Arthur didn't have much will left in him. 

Gaius sensed this, and beckoned to Guinevere to leave. They walked out the door hurriedly, into the cold corridor, closing the door behind them as gently as they could.

The two men were all alone now.

Away from others, welled up tears started to fall down Arthur's face, dripping down from his chin onto his muddy red tunic, turning the fabric crimson, the colour of blood.

He reached out, hesitantly at first, not quite aware of what he was doing, and placed his palm on Merlin's cold face. Slowly, swallowing back sobs, he stroked his manservant's cheek before laying his head down on his chest, trying to find his heartbeat. A wave of reasurance flooded over him. It was faint, but his pulse was still there. He was still alive.

"Merlin," he whispered, "it's alright. You can wake up now. Jokes over."

No reply.

"C'mon, you can't die on me yet... There's still so much we have to do..." There was no stopping the tears at this point, although Arthur had to restrain himself to stop his cries.

"So many more pairs of boots you need to polish, so much more chainmail to clean..." He couldn't stop himself from smiling slightly, in between the snivelling and the sobbing, "C'mon Merlin. I-I promise I'll throw less vases at you, if that's what you really want..."

The sleeping boy didn't so much as stir, and Arthur felt his heartbeat weaken. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried so much; it must have been when he was a child.

"Wake up you idiot, for God's sake wake up! How long are you going to sleep for, Merlin?! You've avoided your duties for too long you--" but his voice failed him before he could finish the sentence, and he was left speechless, save for the sobs that racked his body.

This was the end. It really was. And the funny thing? The prince hadn't realised just how much he cared for his servant - never before had he truly realised the depth of emotions he felt towards him, and now there was no way to tell him.

Out of nowhere, a sudden thought hit him. A thought so ludicrous and bound to failure it stopped the tears from flowing, an idea so stupid and pointless, he felt ashamed to have even considered it--

But it was worth a shot.

After all, he would do many things to save Merlin.

Many, many things.

Even kissing him.

 

 

 

 


	9. Saving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Sorry for not updating in the last couple of days, I've been busy revising and my hand's been hurting a bit so I've been trying (keyword: "trying") to rest it... That said, this chapter is a bit longer than usual! And just in case you had your suspicions, this is NOT the last one! Well, I'll be going now, so enjoy, and please let me know what you think - any feedback/constructive criticism is always welcome!! :)

He knew the risk he was taking, and the extent of the consequences. It would be a disgrace on the Pendragon name, a stain upon Camelot's honour if he, the crown prince, was caught kissing a lowly servant. And a man like himself, at that. Gaius and Gwen were the least of his troubles - of course, the embarrassment of either of them seeing him would be enough to cause Arthur near-eternal humiliation, and they were almost bound to suspect him, but even if that was the case, they wouldn't tell a soul - their loyalty was too strong.

But heaven forbid _someone else_ entered Gaius' chambers: some ill folk from the lower town come to get a remedy from the physician, a messenger perhaps, or even a guard sent to look for the prince... Rumours spread fast, and they spread all the way from the peasants to the members of the King's council - and Arthur feared that all the gold coins in his pocket wouldn't stop so sensational a story being told. His father would no doubt find out, and then, well, Merlin would be exiled at best, executed at worst, and whether was that better than dying now, Arthur did not know.

He took a deep breath and wiped his tears away briskly, knowing he didn't have any time to waste. There was no one else left who could hope to succeed - this was Merlin's only chance. Needless to say, it wasn't a very difficult decision for Arthur. 

He could hear no footsteps in the corridor outside (Gwen and Gaius must have walked further away), so he slowly leaned in over the sleeping boy. He was close, so so close to him: he was close enough to count every individual black eyelash, or every small freckle that dotted his face, invisible to the eye - except at this distance.

At that moment, Arthur closed his eyes and closed the gap, pressing his lips against Merlin's in a deep and sumptuous kiss, all the while holding his manservant's shivering body close to his own, arms wrapped firmly around him.

 

It seemed like the kiss lasted for hours, and when Arthur pulled away, he was almost disappointed to see that Merlin was still very much unconscious. 

The prince's face suddenly paled, almost matching Merlin's own. It hadn't worked.

 

 Merlin was going to die. 

 

Arthur released his hold on him gradually, laying Merlin fully back on the bed, and attempted to swallow back the tears as once again, they threatened to overflow and cascade down his cheeks. Holding his head in his hands, the young man sunk down to rest his forehead on his knees, running his fingers through his ash blonde hair when, all of a sudden, he noticed that something was wrong.

He sat there, in silence, listening, thinking, trying to figure out what was missing. 

 _It's quiet,_ he thought to himself. _Really, really quiet. Almost too quiet..._

_**Exactly.** _

 

In a rush of panic, he raised his head and studied Merlin, cold sweat pouring down his back, straining to see if his servant had stopped breathing-- In actual fact, it was the opposite. 

Merlin's breathing were no longer raspy and labouring; he inhaled and exhaled with relative ease, and upon further inspection, his pulse was stronger and faster, his heart beating at a more regular rhythm. 

 **"GAIUS! GAIUS!! COME QUICKLY!"**  Arthur yelled, a wide grin spreading across his face. "IT'S MERLIN! HE'S-HE'S--" The prince sprang up from his stool and stumbled hurriedly towards the door, barely avoiding colliding with the table or Gaius' giant bookshelf, swinging open the door and shouting down the corridor. "GAIUS! GWEN! YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS, MERL--"

"We're coming sire!" A familiar voice came from the darkness, and in several seconds time Gaius appeared, with Guinevere behind him, rushing towards Arthur. "My apologies, we were just getting a bit of fresh air--"

"Is Merlin alright?" Gwen interrupted, obviously concerned, but when she saw Arthur's smirk she visibly relaxed, sighing deeply and slowing down. 

"Come and see for yourselves," he replied, and disappeared inside; Gwen cast a long look at Gaius and the court physician nodded promptly before they entered the chamber. One look at Merlin was all it took for the old man to know he was going to be alright - instantly, he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and Gaius more or less proceeded to collapse in the stool next to the young man's bedside. Already, anyone could tell that Merlin's condition was much improved: he had visibly stopped shaking, and his skin had very quickly gained some colour, no longer pale as parchment. With great care, Gaius unwrapped the young man's bandages and all three held their breath in anticipation, fearing the worst - but, thankfully for them, their worry had been unnecessary.

The previously festering wound was now a deep pink and crimson colour as the skin had begun to heal itself - the size of the slash was also greatly reduced, and all bleeding had stopped. In several days time, if Merlin's body kept up the quick pace, it would be nothing more than a scar, a memory of uncertain times.

"Well," concluded Gaius, "all seems to be just fine. My lord, you wouldn't have anything to do with this... _Miraculous_ recovery of his, would you now?"

"M-Me?" stuttered the prince. The realisation of what he had done dawned on him all of a sudden, and he averted his gaze from Gaius and the peacefully sleeping Merlin, instead focusing on a rather interesting collection of small jars to his right. "Of course not... I uh... I was sitting next to him, you know, paying my respects, and all of a sudden he just... Got better." He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up and turning red, and never in his life had he wanted to leave a room so much - _even_ that time his father had set up a match with some princess had been a _picnic_ compared to... Well, to _this_. "He got a lot better." Arthur added as an afterthought, trying to sound confident, and immediately wished he hadn't.

"I see," Gaius commented, making sure to keep his thoughts to himself. "Well, I suppose it could have been one of the girls earlier, just uh... With a slight delay."

"Yes, I am _sure_ that that's what happened!" Arthur exclaimed, grateful that the old man had believed his story. "Now I should probably, _ahem_ , return to my chambers..."

"Oh of course sire, you must be _very_ tired - rest assured that Merlin is safe and well here."

"Thank you, Gaius." said Arthur briskly, then hastily left the room, footsteps echoing down the dimly lit corridor.

 

"Do you believe him?" Guinevere asked the court physician, scepticism in her voice, and Gaius chuckled softly in response. 

"Of course I don't, but we can't exactly humiliate him so, can we now?"

She smiled and nodded. "That's true... And speaking of rest," she paused, walking towards the old man, " _you_ should probably get some too. You haven't had any decent sleep for nearly a week Gaius - Merlin's fine now, there's no need for you to watch over him."

"I suppose you're right Guinevere," he agreed, sighing, and leaned against the bed frame for support, attempting to stand up straight. He looked exhausted, his eye bags prominent and eyelids almost closing by themselves. "After all," the physician groaned, stretching his back, "my health isn't what it used to be."

This got a small giggle from the young woman, and she found her eyes drifting to her sleeping friend. She still couldn't quite believe he was going to make it - Gaius had been right, it was nothing short of a miracle - if miracles were servant-kissing princes.

"You should get some rest too," he said, "You've helped me out a lot these past couple of days - I'm sure you must be very weary--"

"Oh no no, I'm fine!" she dismissed, fiddling with one of her curls as she did when she was anxious, "I mean, Lady Morgana was as kind as to give me some more free time these past couple of days, so I'm not _nearly_ as fatigued as I'd normally be--"

"But you must get some sleep--"

"I'll be fine Gaius. Besides, judging by his current state, Merlin will wake up soon..." she paused, just as the man in question rolled over, mumbling to himself, "Someone should be there with him when he does."

"Very well," he said reluctantly, "you mustn't stay up too long though."

"I won't," she replied, settling herself on the seat next to Merlin's bed, "Good night Gaius."

"Goodnight Gwen."

 

That said, not ten minutes later the serving girl was fast asleep, half-lying, half-sitting, next to Merlin, sleeping calmly in the knowledge that her friend was safe. It was the best sleep any of them had got in a while - that is, excluding Arthur.

 

 

 


End file.
